


Playing Games

by jennandanica



Category: LOTR RPS
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2009-11-16
Updated: 2009-11-16
Packaged: 2017-10-03 01:48:36
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,159
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12872
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jennandanica/pseuds/jennandanica
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Elijah's not done. Sequel to Consequences.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Playing Games

Sean's trying to pay attention to Viggo, who's talking about going camping when they have some time off, but he's only catching a word here and there over the pulsating rhythm of the music filling the club. And it certainly doesn't help any that he's so completely mesmerised by the sight of Elijah on the dance floor with Orli, Orli's arms wrapped around him, fingers splayed across the strip of bare skin between shirt and jeans, dipping underneath the front of his waistband, the two men grinding their bodies together.

_Christ_.

And he's a fucking idiot. Really, he is. A wickedly sinful shag in the trailer and another a few days later in the forest don't equal a thing. It's obviously been pure stupidity on his part. Not only for letting both incidents happen. But for fooling himself into thinking there might be more to it. After all, it's been two long weeks since the second event and nothing, absolutely nothing.

Sean looks round and shakes his head, hoping to clear his thoughts. Excuses himself from the table to go and get another round.

***

Elijah rubs himself across Orli, feeling the ridge of Orli's erection against his ass through the double layer of denim between them. And even though this is all in fun, it has him hard as hell and he wants so badly for someone to ease the ache for him. Only problem being that Orli's not the one he wants doing the easing. That would be...

_Shit_.

Where did he go? This whole show on the dance floor is just for him and he's gone. Can't have gone far though. He came with Viggo and Viggo's still at the table which means washroom or bar.

And there he is.

_Good_.

"Gotta take a piss," he shouts at Orli, who just nods and moves on, rubbing himself against the oh-so-sexy guy in almost-too-tight leather pants who's been giving them the eye all evening.

***

Sean's chatting up the lovely and very friendly bartender. She's young. Blonde. Nice rack, as the Americans would say. Thinks maybe he should ask for her number but his heart's not in it. Grabs the glasses and turns around to find Elijah standing there, grinning up at him.

"Hey there," Elijah says.

"Hey there yourself," Sean replies, aiming for nonchalance. Pushes past the younger man and heads back to the table, Elijah following closely on his heels.

Sits back down at the table but Elijah places a hand on his shoulder and says, "Can I talk to you for a minute?"

"Sure," Sean says, giving Viggo a shrug and getting up from the table, he and Elijah moving a few feet away.

"What can I do for you?" Sean asks, finding it surprisingly difficult to look Elijah in the eye.

"You can take me home with you," Elijah announces.

And Sean's stunned. Can't believe Elijah would be so forward.

"No nerf balls?" he jokes, hoping to hide his shock.

"If you want, I'm sure I can find something to throw at you," Elijah says teasingly, watching him closely, his eyes moving from Sean's eyes to his lips and back again.

"Elijah, this probably isn't a good idea," Sean admits reluctantly. Could kick himself for uttering those words when such a short while ago he was wondering if Elijah had lost interest.

"If you don't take me home, I'll ask Orli," Elijah says, bouncing up and down on his heels, his chin lifted defiantly, obviously challenging Sean. "I'm sure _he'd_ take me up on my offer."

_Fuck_. Sean's sure he would too. And for some reason, he can't stand the idea of Orli's hands on Elijah. Can't help wondering if they've been there before. But doesn't think he really wants to know. And just like that, his mind is made up for him.

"I'll tell Viggo we're leaving," Sean says. "He can get a ride home with Orli."

"Orli won't mind at all," Elijah says with a mischievous grin.

Sean just shakes his head. Heads back to the table and whispers in Viggo's ear, Viggo giving him a wicked smile and shaking his head as if Sean should know better. Which, well really, he should.

***

On the way to Sean's house, Elijah can't stop talking. He's nervous as hell. And he would have thought that being fucked by Sean, not once but twice, would have done something to alleviate that nervousness. But it hasn't. And maybe doing this really is a huge fucking mistake.

Because Sean's old enough to be his dad. Has been through three, count 'em, one, two, three marriages. He _is_ a dad. Has three daughters from his last two marriages. And those things alone should be enough to turn Elijah off. Make him stay away.

But God...

every time he looks at Sean, every time Sean looks at him, every time he hears Sean's voice, it just... God... he doesn't think he has words for what it does to him.

And Sean's a nice guy. A really nice guy. Some would say a boringly nice guy. But they haven't been on the receiving end of that growl, that pounce, that rough side of Sean that the older man keeps locked away most of the time. They just don't know. But Elijah does. Boy, does he ever...

***

On the way to his house, Sean can't bring himself to say a word. Manages a few nods when required and a "yeah" here and there, Elijah's yammering enough for both of them, jabbering non-stop about shooting, New Zealand, the Hobbits, Viggo, anything and everything that comes into his head.

Sean spends the drive regretting his decision to take Elijah home with him. Not because of the yammering although yeah, that alone might be a good enough reason. But for a whole host of other reasons. Thinks maybe he should have just left him at the club. Let him go home with Orli. But no. Not that.

And what the hell, he's already fucked the boy twice so what difference could one more time possibly make. He can always avoid him the next time. Can always say no the next time. Can always refuse if ever offered a next time.

***

Sean's place is nice. One level. Nice wrap-around deck. Not huge but it's not like he has anyone out here anyway, Elijah thinks. Least not the Hobbits. Or Orli. Elijah knows he's had Viggo out here 'cause they've bonded in that 'we're-the-same-age-you-see' kinda way that he finds vaguely annoying.

And he wonders if Sean's bonded in other ways with Viggo. Is well aware that Viggo's been pretty busy _bonding_ with Orli lately but still, Elijah wouldn't put anything past him.

***

Sean's never had anyone, aside from Viggo, to his house and it feels kind of strange. He doesn't socialize much outside the pub. Doesn't do much of anything at all during his time off except drink beer and watch footie. Which makes him wonder again what he was thinking when he agreed to this.

He hangs their jackets in the front closet, turns on the lights in the living room and watches as Elijah walks around the room, checking things out. He bends over from the waist to read the titles of the books on the lower shelves of the bookcase, so obviously presenting his arse for inspection that Sean can't help but smile.

"Would you like something to drink?" he asks.

"No thanks," Elijah says without straightening. "I'm fine."

Sean takes a seat on the couch. Watches as Elijah wanders around the room, picking things up and inspecting them before carefully replacing them in their original position. And Sean wants to ask him why tonight of all nights. But he's content to wait things out, still not quite sure what game it is they're playing this time.

***

Elijah can't decide what to say, his usual confidence failing him miserably. Is pretty sure that "would you fuck me already and make it nice and nasty" wouldn't exactly be an appropriate place to begin. But he also wants to ask Sean why he hasn't made a move. Hasn't approached him since that time in the forest. Elijah's had to initiate things both times and he doesn't know what that means but thinks it has to mean something.

Having circled the room, Elijah turns to face Sean. And it's now or never. He has to speak up. So he does. "You never talk to me," he says.

And _shit_ that bears absolutely no resemblance to what he intended to say. But the words are out there and well, he really does want to know why.

***

What the hell? "I talk to you all the time."

"No, you don't," Elijah insists. "Not in any way that really matters. You say hello and you chat with me when the others are around. But you don't talk to me."

"I had no idea you wanted me to talk to you," Sean says, and really, he didn't. Not like that. Had actually thought the younger man preferred for him to keep his distance.

"Well, what did you think I wanted?"

"I thought you wanted a quick fuck here and there," Sean says, honestly. "And I wasn't even sure you still wanted that."

And Elijah flushes, looks away. Eventually says, "Well, I did and I do, but... never mind."

Starts to say something else but closes his mouth. Slowly approaches the couch, hesitating for an instant before climbing onto Sean's lap, straddling Sean's legs between his thighs and leaning back to look at him.

"You are so fucking sexy," he says.

Sean doesn't answer. He's still too busy contemplating the fact that he has a nineteen-year-old boy on his lap and for some odd reason, this bothers him more now, here in his own house, having made a conscious decision to bring him here and fuck him, than it ever did before.

Elijah traces the line of Sean's jaw with his hand, leans in and kisses him gently. Brings Sean's left hand up to his lips, opening them and drawing his thumb inside, just the tip and then further, staring into his eyes the whole time while he slowly slides it in and out of his mouth, licking it and sucking it as carefully as he would his cock. And Sean can't help but react. Watches Elijah smile as he feels Sean's reaction.

"Good," Elijah says, softly. "I was beginning to think you were having second thoughts."

Covers Sean's mouth with his, kissing him again, more firmly this time.

And Sean pulls back.

"I am."

"Am what?"

"Having second thoughts."

Elijah looks at him, eyes narrowing.

"You have got to be kidding."

"Elijah, you're nineteen--"

"Yes, and you've already fucked me twice."

"I know. But it was a mistake. Both times."

"Fuck you!" Elijah says, getting off Sean's lap and standing before him. "How can you say that?"

"Elijah..."

"I don't know how you can say that. But fine. You don't want to fuck me? Take me back to the club and I'll go home with Orli."

"Elijah..."

"Or Viggo. I bet Viggo would take me home. Viggo doesn't have any hang-ups about age."

"Elijah..."

"Bet he'd love to fuck my ass into the ground." Elijah whispers huskily, leaning close, his face inches from Sean's. "And Orli says he's hung like a horse. Fills you right up. Reams your ass until you feel like you've been split in two."

And _those_ words coming from _that_ mouth make Sean's cock twitch. _Christ_.

"What do you think, Sean? Should I ask Viggo to take me home?"

The very thought makes Sean want to rip Viggo's head off. Which really isn't right.

"What do you think, Sean?"

But what about this is?

"I asked you, Sean." Pausing. "What do you think?"

And _fine_ he can play this game too.

"I think you don't know what the fuck you're doing," Sean says, grabbing Elijah by the wrist. "Or who you're dealing with." Drags him down the hall to the bedroom. "If you did, you wouldn't be stupid enough to bait me like this." Spins around to face Elijah, pulling him close and growling into his ear. "You want to be fucked? You want to be reamed? I can do that."

***

And maybe Elijah shouldn't have said those things. Maybe he's gone too far this time. He just wanted Sean to stop thinking. Needed him to put aside his second thoughts and want him again. But the look on his face is scaring the hell out of Elijah and the grip on his wrist is brutally tight. He wants to apologize. Wants to tell Sean he didn't mean it but the words don't seem to be there. And he can't seem to figure out where they've gone, what with all the blood having deserted his brain for his cock.

Sean throws him down on the bed. Draws Elijah's t-shirt roughly over his head and pulls his jeans off, down over his feet.

"You Yanks," Sean says, shaking his head. "Always going commando."

And just who else has Sean seen going commando? Elijah feels a sudden flare of jealousy but has little time to consider as Sean makes quick work of his own clothes, throwing them into the hamper at the foot of the bed before climbing onto the bed and prowling up the length of Elijah's body.

With one quick move, Sean flips Elijah over onto his stomach, pinning his wrists to the mattress above his head with one hand and straddling his upper thighs. Reaches over into the nightstand with the other, grabbing some lube from the drawer. Quickly slicks his fingers and shoves two deep into Elijah. And Elijah groans, tries to twist away from him, but Sean's too strong.

He stops struggling. Says "Sean, get off me." Sean's fingers are still inside him but they're not moving. "Please. I didn't mean it."

Sean places his mouth against Elijah's ear and rumbles, "You have a nasty habit of saying and doing things you don't mean. Maybe you should take a moment to consider the consequences before you act or open your mouth."

"You're right and I will," Elijah says. "I promise." Anything to get himself out of this.

"Too late this time," Sean replies, adding another finger and pushing deep.

And Elijah moans, presses back against Sean's hand. Can't help himself. Knows there's no way Sean's going to let him go and -oh god- that thought alone has him harder than ever.

***

Sean dips his fingers in and out of Elijah's body, stroking his prostate with every move until he has Elijah whimpering and writhing against his hand. Considers replacing his fingers with his aching cock but thinks better of it. Adds another for good measure, making Elijah yowl. Strokes across, brushes up and down, again and again. And again. Watches the minutes tick away on the clock by the bedside as he works his fingers into Elijah, keeping Elijah teetering on the brink, relief so close yet so far away. Bends down over him and nips the skin at the base of his neck, Elijah whimpering at the sting of sharp teeth, but tilting his head to the side, offering easier access. Sean licks broad stripes along the younger man's neck and shoulders. And Elijah's trembling. The trembling soon turning to outright shaking. But Sean's still waiting. Doesn't know for what. But he's sure he'll know it when it comes.

"Please, Sean," Elijah cries out. "Oh God, please."

And that. That would be it.

Sean slicks his cock with one hand, still holding Elijah's wrists tightly with the other, wipes his hand on the bedsheets and runs his arm under Elijah's stomach, pulling him up onto all fours. Elijah shudders as Sean's cock bobs against his entrance. Sean pushes in slowly, just an inch. Pulls out. And Elijah whimpers. In again. The same inch. And out. And Elijah is groaning, pushing back, trying to make Sean fuck him. But he won't. Does it again and again and again until Elijah is almost crying with need.

"Say it," Sean orders.

Elijah just whimpers.

"Say it."

"Fuck me," Elijah grits out.

"Again."

"Fuck me," Elijah cries. "Please, Sean. Fuck me. I can't take this any more."

Sean rams home with one deep thrust. Elijah cries out. Presses back for more. Sean pulls out almost to the head and slams in again. Repeats the movement a few times, reaching under and grabbing Elijah's cock at the base, hard, when he feels the younger man tightening around him.

"Christ, Sean," Elijah shudders. "Don't."

"You're not coming until I let you," Sean says.

"Shit, Sean--" his words throttled by another deep thrust.

And Sean rides him. Fucks him hard. Reams him just like he wanted. Slamming violently into him and again, flesh smacking against flesh. And he wants to come. Needs so badly to come. But he has a point to make. Something to prove. A game to win.

And when he's sure, absolutely fucking positive, that he's won this game to end all games, he lets go, comes inside Elijah with a roar, biting down hard on his shoulder, causing Elijah to whimper once again, shoving deep, spurting hard, spilling himself into the younger man's arse, his hand still around the base of Elijah's cock, preventing him from finding his own release.

Waits for a moment, catching his breath, and pulls out.

***

Elijah cries out at the sudden loss, aching so badly, fucking dying for relief.

"Sean, you fucking asshole, I-- oh god," and Sean's mouth is covering his hole, kissing him, licking him, tonguing into him and -oh god- he's -oh fuck- eating his own come from Elijah's ass.

And it's the thought of what Sean's doing - so very dirty, so very nasty - as much as the feel of it - his tongue deep inside him - that has Elijah keening and coming in seconds, spurting thick and heavy onto the bedsheets below.

***

Sean's changed the bed and the two of them are lying together, arms and legs entwined, Elijah's head on Sean's shoulder. It amazes Sean how right this feels when he's pretty sure it should feel so very wrong. He's not exactly been known for making the right choices when it comes to his love life. Doesn't think he should have to start now. Wants simply to enjoy this. Just take from it - and Elijah - whatever he can, whatever's on offer.

Still, there is one thing he needs to know.

"Lij?"

"Yeah?" Elijah says, on the verge of sleep, his voice surprisingly low and husky.

"Would you really have gone home with Orli or Viggo?"

Elijah lifts his head to look at Sean. "Nope. Not a chance. It was you or no one."

And Sean smiles. Kisses him.

"Can I ask you something?" Elijah says, softly, not meeting Sean's eyes.

"Of course."

"Was it really a mistake?"

And "No. No, it wasn't," Sean answers. "Not at all."


End file.
